I Guess I Win Anyway
by Accio Snitch
Summary: Slash + Chess = Slashychess! Why lose points when you can lose clothes? Oddly perverted fic written out of impulse for Valentine's Day.


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AUTHOR: Britt ( alohomora.nu | britt@alohomora.nu ) **  
PAIRING: **Ron/Harry; mentioning of Dean/Seamus **  
RATING: **18 **  
GENERE: **I have noooo idea. **  
AUTHOR NOTES: ** For starters, let me tell you that I _can't write worth shit_. Don't bother sending constructive criticism or anything like that, because I currently have no plans to improve my skills; I'm just a bored fan. Of course, you're welcome to leave feedback and all that, just keep in mind that it isn't a top priority. I threw this together very quickly, and it _will _suck muchly. Woo hoo!   
This fic was written as a small gig for Valentine's Day, and is based entirely off of ( _www.alohomora.nu/harry+ron/fanstuff/fanart/art/tanja_1.jpg_ ) --- this piece of artwork by the simply amazing Tanja of SWUSSIAN.COM.

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I Guess I Win Anyway

'So … so, one article of clothing for every Pawn, Bishop, Knight and Castle, two for the Queen, and the first to be Checkmated has to do whatever the opposing player says?' mimicked Harry, his voice shaking slightly. Only moments before had he had been introduced to Ron's new take on chess, and was currently trying to convince these odd new rules to sink in. He ought to have known Ron would have some sort of ill plan for celebrating Valentine's Day, or as he more fondly called it, 'The Useless Holiday That Should Be Protested Were It Not For The Fact That I Own Harry Potter' … And from the obvious factor that Ron was a much better chess player than he was, it appeared that the unofficial name would most probably ring true.

'Yes, that's it exactly.' said Ron. The absence of a pink tinge around his ears and cheeks only caused Harry to feel more uncomfortable every second. The two of them were sitting on Ron's bed, half shadowed by the hangings with the added protection of a locked door. The other beds inside the circular dormitory made Harry feel nauseous, but he wasn't about to step down; Harry wasn't like that. He was going to play Ron's bloody game, even if it meant being fucked senseless by force afterwards … privately, he wasn't so sure he could label this as an unfortunate thing. 'You ready?' Ron inquired.

'Er-, ready as I'll ever be.' said Harry, trying his absolute best to sound confident, when he'd much rather not have to submit to Ron's wicked habits. The two boys went about setting up their pieces on the board Ron had placed on the middle of the bed, each one of them equally confused as to why they were going to battle in such a confined environment. Ron would be playing white this time around, so Harry was forced to wait with anxiety as he thought out his first move. He wasn't so sure he should have given in to this. 

'Knight to A-3, please' Ron commanded. Most games began this way. Ron was no longer looking as though he were expecting a huge present, but went back to his game face. He stayed calm and collected as his Knight gallantly trotted forwards on his horse.

'Wait,' Harry impulsively sputtered after Ron was finished. He quickly abandoned his black work robe, shrugging, a rosy hue appearing on his face; Ron smirked at him. '_It was warm!_… right, the game. Uh .. Pawn, C-5'.

The match continued for a few more moves like this, both boys becoming hot and flustered behind the warm curtains, equally anxious for the first official article of clothing to be removed. They didn't have to wait long, though - it was only moments before Ron's brave Knight beat Harry's Bishop to the board with a swift bash to the side.

'Oh, would you look at that.' said Ron with a tone of sarcasm. 'Now, Harry, I would _love _to tell you otherwise, but as its _just not possible_ … Those shirts will have to go, my friend.'

Keeping his dignity as best he could, Harry pulled his grey jumper over his head, sending off sparks of electricity that left his hair more on end than usual. 

'_And _the shirt' Ron prompted.

'_What?_' protested Harry, perhaps a little louder than he would have normally intended. 'But they're separate, aren't they?'

Ron pondered this before reaching down and removing his own sweater, tossing it aside carelessly. He started to unbutton his shirt with ease leaving Harry with a case of the chills.

'That do?' said Ron, his chest now exposed with his tie tickling his belly. 'Will you come, now?

Harry was very confused and failed to see the point of Ron's most recent action. Not that it mattered - the sight of Ron's chest fulfilled whatever questions he had, and he spent no time removing his own shirt. He could feel his face reddening. _I must not lose my nerve … I will not lose it …_he told himself; the game was still on.

Harry did his best to concentrate, he really did, but it was difficult when there was the constant risk of having to expose more skin. He shivered, longing for his jumper, or at least for Ron to abandon the game and snuggle against him to warm his cool skin. He thought deeply on this, a small smile appearing at his lips which was wiped away instantly as he was told to abandon his socks.

Ron was clearly enjoying this much more than Harry and feeling very pleased with himself. He had conceived the idea of this naked chess game only a few nights ago, while Dean and Seamus did something similar with Gobstones. Unlike Ron and Harry, however, they had decided _not _to consider others, and Ron had a most unpleasant surprise when entering the dormitory to retrieve his schoolbooks. At the time he was mortified, but now, he was thankful. You had to hand it to those two thought Ron, as Harry deliciously curled his toes under a bed sheet to keep his feet warm.

Harry felt more awkward as Ron teasingly spread his long legs around the board. It was quite cruel, in Harry's mind. Was this to tempt him? Put him down? Harry certainly thought of the latter as he stared enviously at the fully-clothed Ron, and himself with nothing but his tie, trousers and pants left to go. He felt very much like Dobby the house-elf as he thought of how unusual it was for him to be losing so horribly. The past seven years of friendship with Ron had taught him a thing or two about chess, and the games were usually quite close. Perhaps it was just his nerves acting up, and you really had to give him the right.

Harry was so lost in thought by now that he hardly noticed one of Ron's reckless pawns triumphantly swipe at his Queen. His face purpled when the pawn shouted 'HA!', shaking him back to reality.

'Trousers, Harry,' Ron mumbled. The raven-haired boy didn't move. 'And the belt. Of course, I'd be pleased to assist you if …'

'No!' Harry snapped, and at Ron's look of surprise, he softened, 'No .. Its just … no, I'll do it myself.'

Never had he felt more vulnerable than the moment his trousers slid to his ankles, to be picked up by Ron's large, eager hands. His blue eyes were fixed on the fabric as he gently set the clothing aside as though they were some precious artefact. Harry loved to see Ron so gentle, unfortunately, he couldn't quite savour the moment, as he was now sitting uncomfortably on the bed in nothing but black pants, a tie, and a bed sheet curled around his feet. Ron had seen him naked loads of times, it was true, but it was always mutual. 

The game was lost, Harry knew, but he was going to play as long as he could. He looked past Ron's cruel grin and stared mournfully at his lost Bishop, which was currently trapped between his long fingers.

'Castle to E-2' said Harry. 'Check.'

Ron looked on thoughtfully.

'Queen to E-2, and don't even _think_ about giving up the tie…' he said impatiently.

Harry silently admitted defeat to himself before pulling the sheet from his feet as far up as it would go. It was humid on the bed, but not enough to warm him as he slid his thumbs underneath the elastic on his trunks. He proceeded to slide them off, reddening at the look of hunger in Ron's eyes while concentrating on keeping himself hidden behind the thin layer of blanket. He slid them off entirely before reluctantly passing them to Ron, who snatched them with a look of pure evil. He set them down next to him and eyed Harry.

'Well … This game is won.' he announced triumphantly. Harry remembered something.

'No, Ron. You don't win until you've Mated my King, you said so yourself. Just because I'm practically stark naked …' he reddened more and Ron's grin widened, causing him to feel weak '… doesn't mean you can put me to work just yet. Now, if you don't mind, Pawn to H-5.'

_Bad move _… _very bad move, Harry … you've done it now …_

'You're right.' agreed Ron, 'I don't win _yet_'

Harry uttered a gasp as Ron hovered himself over the board, grasping Harry's tie in his left hand, and reaching down with the other. Ron's breath was warm on his face, and he stifled a whimper when the heat of Ron's right hand could be felt just above. Harry could feel him almost on him, _almost …_

'Checkmate.' Ron announced with a smile, having quickly made a manual move on his pawn, signalling defeat for Harry. Harry didn't utter a word, but opened his eyes in surprise as the grip on his tie tightened and he was pulled forward into a deep and gentle kiss. Harry no longer cared that he was uncovered. He bothered even less with the fact that he was now officially owned by a red-head with a sick sense of humour. Even though the game was unfair, lame, and he had lost miserably, he couldn't help but think _I guess I win anyway._


End file.
